


Say Something (Something Like You Love Me)

by belgardebells



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor, Friendship/Love, Relationship Tutoring
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-21 05:08:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3678816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belgardebells/pseuds/belgardebells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke Griffin has never been in a relationship with anyone before, and when she's fed up with the torment she receives for it, she turns to one of her closest friends, Bellamy Blake for help. She manages to convince him to tutor her in the physical aspects of a relationship and then help her find a proper partner so she can put an end to the onslaught of teasing from her friends. With some reluctance, he agrees, but things don't go as initially planned. While their agreement started as a platonic gesture of kindness from one friend to another, a series of events causes it to evolve into something a bit more than a friendly favour, and one of them may find themselves falling deeper and faster than the other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Agreement

**Author's Note:**

> I was thinking, you know, what if Bellamy had to 'teach' Clarke how to do certain things a non-asexual girlfriend would do, like what would that be like?  
> I hope this idea excites you guys as much as it does me!
> 
> *title from the song [Believe](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dW6SkvErFEE) by Mumford and Sons*

It was something of a running joke among Clarke's friends that she was the baby of the group. This was on the basis that at nineteen years old, the most intimate she'd been with someone was a kiss on the cheek.

“Forgive me if I want my love life to actually mean something,” she'd said grumpily in the midst of one of their mass teasing sessions.

“That's what all virgins say,” Raven had said, and everyone else laughed.

Clarke wasn't sure who started the mocking—probably Raven, honestly—but she knew exactly when.

During the Summer before Clarke's senior year of high school, she'd been with her friends doing a last hurrah before classes started again. They'd all driven to the ghost town on the outskirts of the city and camped out in the abandoned church with multiple bottles of vodka, rum, and gin balanced around them. Because of Miller, when they were all already tipsy, they'd got it in their heads to play Never Have I Ever.

Soon, after phrases like, “Never have I ever kissed a girl,” and “Never have I ever had a one-night stand,” and “Never have I ever had bad sex,” Jasper had made an offhand comment about how Clarke was the most sober of the bunch. Knowing that they'd been asking mostly sexual questions, they'd apparently collectively decided to gang up on her. Everyone had stared at Clarke when a question was asked, and when she inevitably didn't drink, loud guffaws and drunken shouts had filled the room, much to Clarke's annoyance. After everyone was more than a little drunk, Raven joked about how they'd all get alcohol poisoning if they kept going at the rate they were, and so Wick told Clarke to just go ahead and end the suffering by telling them how far she'd gone. Begrudgingly, she'd told them about the kiss on the cheek she'd gotten from Lexa—which was the closest she'd ever come to being in a relationship, back in grade eight before Lexa up and moved to Canada—and it had gotten so quiet that she'd sworn she heard crickets chirping.

“Well, that's just sad,” Raven had said, pity in her eyes, but then Miller snorted, and Lincoln gave a quiet, half-hidden chuckle, and then the whole church was filled with the raucous laughter of her friends, kicking their feet, stomping around, rolling on the floor, and generally losing it. Clarke had merely sat there with a blank look on her face, casually drinking from the bottle of rum.

Things never got better from there. Though, surprisingly, of all her friends, Bellamy was the one who took it easy on her. He still laughed along with everyone else when Murphy would jokingly ask if Clarke had a boyfriend, yet, or when Octavia pretended to uninvite Clarke to 'couple' events, because Clarke being part of a couple 'would never happen', but he was the only one who never himself said anything about her being inexperienced. Whenever she was talking to him, he just never brought it up, or joked about it, or otherwise acknowledged it, for which she was grateful.

That was mostly why he was the one she sought out after a particularly long-winded round of making fun of her where Jasper—high off pot brownies—laughed incredibly hard about how Clarke's 'purity' would be the cure for AIDS.

Presently, it was the day after, and Clarke had just pulled up outside Bellamy's apartment. He'd buzzed her up without a word when she announced it was her. The door to #203 was unlocked, so she let herself in, much to the surprise of a woman coming out of the bathroom across from her with wet hair and wearing only a towel.

“Oh!” Clarke gasped, whirling around to face the door.

Immediately, she regretted it because oh, God, her friends would absolutely go off on her for being 'innocent', but in the next second, relief washed away her worries because this was Bellamy's apartment and none of them were there. And then she rolled her eyes, because he'd buzzed her up, and the girl was completely covered, and this _was_ a bit virginal, even for Clarke.

So, she turned back around, giving the woman a small smile, but instead of returning it, the woman visibly deflated, regret washing over her features.

“You're his girlfriend, aren't you?”

Clarke raised her eyebrows, letting out a small laugh.

“No, no,” she said quickly, shaking her head. “Absolutely not. No.”

“Oh,” she said, the colour coming back to her face. An uncomfortable silence followed, and Clarke cleared her throat.

“I'm just gonna … go find Bellamy.”

“Right here, Clarke,” he said from her left, amusement in his voice.

She snapped her head to the kitchen, where Bellamy was leaning against the counter, his arms crossed over his bare chest and a pair of black sweatpants hanging from his hips. Smiling tightly, she looked back toward the girl, but she'd disappeared, presumably into Bellamy's room.

The smile dropped from her face as she walked up to him.

“Why would you let me come up if you had company?”

“Why would you come over unannounced on a Saturday morning?”

He quirked an eyebrow at her silence and Clarke winced, looking away, but Bellamy just laughed.

“You just came to hang out or what?” he asked lightly, because really, if she showed up at his apartment alone, that was always the reason—sometimes it was hard to deal with the relentless, constant, no-longer-funny bullying (because that was what it was at this point) of her other friends.

But she shook her head.

“I have a request, actually.”

He looked like he was having a hard time suppressing a smile.

“A request,” he echoed, nodding once.

Sighing heavily, she looked around at the room to make sure they were still alone and then she stepped closer to him.

“You can't tell anyone,” she said lowly, raising her eyebrows. “Even if you don't want to do it, you still have to keep it between us.”

Undisguised intrigue settled on his face. “I'm listening.”

Clarke raised her chin.

“I'm tired of everyone making fun of me because of my love life.”

“So,” he started, drawing the word out to urge her on. “What do you want me to do about it? Hook you up with someone?”

“Not exactly,” she said calmly, narrowing her eyes when he didn't seem to be catching on.

But then it hit him.

“No,” he said at once, rapidly shaking his head. “That's—just—no.”

“Why not?” she asked pleadingly, her shoulders slumping.

“You'd have no idea what you were doing,” he said, without missing a beat.

She rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “That's kind of the point, Bellamy.”

“So, hang on,” he said, uncrossing his arms and bracing one hand against the counter, turning to face her fully. “What exactly are you asking?”

She glanced at his bedroom door and lowered her voice.

“For your help.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I got that much. With what?”

“Well, I can't just _say_ it,” she mumbled, suddenly shy.

Bellamy exhaled sharply. “Just so we're on the same page here, you want me to … what, give you experience?”

She giggled, which was a nervous habit that she'd never been able to break. It seemed to lighten the mood, though, because the tension was gone from his face.

“When you say it like that, it sounds weird,” she muttered, crossing her arms.

“Is that _not_ what you're asking?” he asked, genuinely unsure.

“Fine,” Clarke said, sighing heavily as she met his eyes. “I'll just say it: I want a boyfriend or a girlfriend or something, just to get everyone else off my back, but I can't date anyone right _now_ , because like you said, I'd have no idea what to do.”

She paused, making sure he was still with her.

“So, I'm coming to you to ask if you could … I don't know, tutor me in how to be a girlfriend. With … hands on stuff.”

He smirked. “Is that your way of saying you want to get in my pants, Clarke?”

“Bellamy, stop,” she said sternly, wide-eyed, and there was that giggle again.

Laughing, he shook his head lightly.

“So, you want to be friends with benefits?”

She scoffed. “God, no.”

“That's exactly what this is, Clarke,” he argued, laughing heartily.

“Whatever,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Call it what you want. Will you do it?”

“This is gonna take _so_ much work,” he said, thoughtfully appraising her.

She ignored the implication.

“Does that mean you'll help?” she asked instead, unable to hide the hopefulness in her voice.

He smiled, nodding once. “Sure. What are friends for?”

“Oh, thank you,” she sighed, tossing her head back and closing her eyes. “I don't really know how to start—”

“ _I'm_ the teacher,” he interrupted, quirking an eyebrow. “It's under _my_ jurisdiction to make a plan. I'm thinking step-by-step lessons.”

“You are unbelievable,” she said, shaking her head.

He smirked, shrugging a shoulder as he moved around her.

“Just let me get rid of Amanda and then we can start,” he said, like it was no big deal, like 'Amanda' wasn't a _person_ waiting for him in his room.

“Oh, God, I've made a mistake,” Clarke groaned, leaning against the counter, but it wasn't like she was about to back out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't know what I'm thinking starting another multi-chapter when I'm currently in the middle of three other ones, but what the Hell, inspiration struck.


	2. Many New Developments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins.

It'd been about thirty minutes since Bellamy's one-night stand left and he and Clarke were still working on the ins and outs of the 'all-business agreement', which is what Bellamy had started calling it after Clarke smacked him when he tried to call it 'friends-with-benefits' again.

They were currently sitting side by side at his kitchen table, both very absorbed in the contractual plan he was typing out. To his credit, Bellamy let Clarke decide everything on the list without pushing anything himself, and when she was too shy to use the slang terms for certain things, he only smirked and wrote out what he thought she meant, glancing at her as he did to make sure he was getting it right. Almost every time, she rolled her eyes at his wording, which was _so_ much worse than whatever innuendo she'd used.

So far, they'd managed to create a list of twenty things that Clarke wanted to work on, but they ended up narrowing it down to six when Bellamy insisted most of the things she'd listed needed little more than an explanation. Once the agreement was complete, Bellamy read it out loud, sounding pleased with himself. Clarke didn't know whether to take the thing seriously or laugh, considering it was written half-professional and half-Bellamy:

 

_ The All-Business Agreement_

 

_______________________________  
Female Participant's Signature_

_______________________________  
Male Participant's Signature_

 

_As a man seasoned in the art of women, Bellamy Blake hereby declares himself the tutor of Clarke Griffin in the following fields:_

 

  1. _Kissing_

  2. _Necking and Hickies_

  3. _Heavy Petting_

  4. _Clarke-centric pleasure_

  5. _Bellamy-centric pleasure_

  6. _Doing the do_




 

_This agreement shall hold for six weeks, dedicating one week to each category to ensure Clarke's advancement in the physical aspects of a sexual relationship. Once the six-weeks are up, Bellamy has agreed to help Clarke find a significant other._

_As this is not an exclusive or romantic relationship, neither participant is expected to remain faithful to one another during any part of the agreement, and therefore, can take part in the above activities with other members of the human community._

_If, at any point, there is apprehension on the part of either participant, the action in play will be terminated and discontinued indefinitely until the participant is comfortable enough to try again._

_At Clarke's request, this clause is being written to guarantee the above acts do not alter the current relationship between participants. After the fulfillment of the agreement, both parties must remain as they were at the moment this agreement was created with no awkwardness whatsoever. Also, none of their friends are ever allowed to know what they're doing ever. Explicitly ever. She said 'ever' fifty times. So, ever._

_Once participants sign, this agreement may not be broken on the grounds that it is legally binding by the power vested in Bellamy._

 

Clarke had so many problems with it, all surrounding how annoyingly he'd typed it, and why were the signatures at the top instead of the bottom, and why were they signing it at all, and speaking of that, why were they even writing it out? Bellamy effectively shut her up when he reminded her that he'd wanted to name them friends-with-benefits and call it day, but she was the one who had to 'get all technical about it'.

“This is everything?” he asked, dragging his finger from number one to number six. “These are what you want to do?”

She nodded, her stomach twisting at the last number. It had nothing to do with Bellamy, of course. It was just that it was ... well, it was sex, and she'd be having it in six weeks' time, and that was pretty wild.

“You sure?” he asked, arching his eyebrow.

“Yes,” she said impatiently.

“I'm gonna print it, then,” he said as he rose, taking the laptop with him to the window and hooking it up to the printer.

“Are you sure we should do that?” she asked, nervously tapping her finger on the table. “Someone's more likely to find it if it's on paper.”

“I'll hide it, don't worry,” he said, clicking around on the computer until the printer was churning out the agreement.

Bellamy slid it across the table to her, holding out a black pen. As she handwrote her name, she was shaking her head, thinking that writing out a sex contract and completing it with signatures seemed like such juvenile behaviour.

“This isn't gonna change things between us, right?” she said as she passed it off to him, because even though it was already written in the agreement, she felt the need to make it even more expressly clear that they were not allowed to change how they interacted with each other. Weirdness would mess up the dynamic of their entire group. More than that, the idea of losing Bellamy's friendship over something that meant nothing was already making her a little angry at him, because if it happened, it would be his fault for sure.

“It's not like we think of each other as anything more than friends, Clarke,” he said distractedly, writing out his signature. “As long as that doesn't change for you, we'll be fine.”

“What if it changes for _you_?” she asked smartly, but of course it wouldn't. This was Bellamy she was talking about.

“Trust me,” he said as he folded the paper in half. “Not gonna happen. We start lessons at the soonest convenience.”

She scoffed at 'lessons'. “As in tomorrow?”

He shrugged on his way to his bedroom. “Well, if you want to be specific.”

“Where are you going?” she called, following him into his room just as he was tucking the agreement in between two books on the top shelf of his closet.

“You got something to say?” he asked when he turned and saw her staring him with a look on her face that she hoped read, _there, really?_

“That's your hiding place?” she said, her voice monotone.

He nodded once and Clarke heaved a sigh, crossing the room to snatch the folded paper from the closet. She surveyed the room, looking for a better way to conceal it and her eyes zeroed in on his dresser.

“At least put in a little bit of effort,” she said, yanking the first drawer open and rifling through his shirts.

“Whoa, hey,” he said, grabbing her arm and pulling it out of his clothes. “Bit of privacy might be nice.”

“A bit of you having a place to stash this might be nicer,” she deadpanned, quirking an eyebrow at him as she walked around him to his end table.

“Really, Clarke?” he said, guessing where she was heading. “That's worse than where I had it. That's the first place someone would look.”

Scrunching her face together, she stopped and turned to face him. “Are you forgetting that no one knows about this? No one's looking anywhere for anything, relax.”

“Then what was your problem with it being in the closet?”

“It was out in the open,” she said, as though it were obvious. “Your closet doesn't even have a door.”

She tossed the agreement in the top drawer and slid it shut.

“Fine,” he said, crossing his arms, “but when Octavia inevitably finds it in there, don't get mad at me.”

“I don't think Octavia's interested in anything you could have in your condom drawer,” Clarke said, rolling her eyes and leaving his room.

“Condom drawer's in the other bedside table,” he teased, his footsteps following her out, and Clarke's face pulled together in disgust.

“I wasn't _asking_ ,” she said, rolling her eyes on her way to the front door.

“You're leaving?”

She glanced over her shoulder at Bellamy leaning against the wall. It was staggering how quickly they could slip from light bickering into casual conversation.

“Yeah,” she said, her hand on the doorknob. “I told Octavia and Raven that I was going to school to hand in a late paper. I've already been gone too long.”

She'd been paranoid that if she told them she was going to Bellamy's, they'd somehow figure out her exact intentions, which she really just couldn't deal with.

“You know, you coulda just told them the truth,” he said playfully, the corner of his mouth turning up.

Clarke returned the look. “I think there's a part of the agreement that specifies we're never allowed to do that, so … kind of out of luck, there.”

Bellamy gave a short laugh, pushing away from the wall and coming to the door. He knocked her hand off the handle and opened it for her, and when Clarke rolled her eyes at the gesture, he just snickered.

“Same time tomorrow, Princess?”

Clarke nodded. “Do I need to bring anything?”

“No,” he said, looking like he was having a hard time keeping a straight face. “Just you and your lips.”

“Great,” she said cheerfully, starting off down the hall to the stairwell. “I look forward to it.”

She could practically  _feel_ Bellamy smirk. “I'm sure you do.”

* * *

When she got back to the apartment she shared with Octavia and Raven, they both looked beyond excited. As soon as they noticed her, they squealed and ran across the room to grab at her arms and drag her further into the apartment.

“You hand the paper in on time?” Raven asked quickly.

She nodded, taking a deep breath and narrowing her eyes at them. “What's going on?”

“Tell her, Raven!” said Octavia, looking about ready to burst.

Raven clapped her hands together and went right to it. “As you know, there's just over a month until Uni's done for the year, and then guess where all of us are going!”

“Where?” she asked, a little apprehensive, but mostly eager. Their excitement was impossibly contagious.

Octavia and Raven shared a look, and then at the same time, blurted out: “The cabin!”

Clarke's jaw dropped, her eyes widening, and both girls laughed happily.

The cabin was the nonspecific term for one of the most beautiful places Clarke had ever been. It was what she and her friends called the lake-side, five-bedroom cottage owned by Raven's parents. Clarke had been there four times in total, twice with her mom and dad when she was very young (Octavia, Bellamy, their mother Aurora, and the Reyes', of course, had been there, as well)—Clarke, Raven, and Octavia knew each other through their parents, who were all childhood friends that remained close-knit in adulthood—once when she was a bit older (again, with her parents and Octavia's family), and once when she was a teenager with just her friends, who at the time had only been Raven, Octavia, Bellamy, and Murphy. That was when she was in the tenth grade, and it was only allowed because Bellamy and Murphy were both ~~responsible~~ adults and Raven compromised that they'd all stay for only a weekend.

Raven had been trying to organize a Summer at the cabin since then, but every year, the plan was a no-go because her parents were always vacationing there with their friends.

Apparently, that wasn't a problem anymore.

“Are you serious?” Clarke asked, her chest flooding with excitement.

“I just got off the phone with my mom,” Raven said with a wide-grin. “She and the old man are going to Mexico this year, and she said if I still wanted it—”

“I can't believe this,” Clarke interrupted, her voice low, but she felt like she needed to scream.

Biting her lip and nodding her head, Octavia grasped both of Clarke's shoulders, giving her a light squeeze.

“Do you realize what this means?” she asked wildly, bouncing around when Clarke gave her a perplexed look. “Don't you remember the fantasy we had when we were all thirteen? The fantasy, Clarke! The one where we each get a boyfriend, drive up to the cabin, and mack on them all Summer! I've wanted this since _birth_.”

Well, that wasn't true, obviously.

“Is that a _'ha-ha, you're single and you need a boyfriend'_ look, because it's about to ruin my mood,” she said sourly, rolling her shoulders so that Octavia dropped her hands.

“No,” she said, boring her eyes into Clarke's, “this is an _'Octavia and Raven are getting you a person before school's out so that we can fulfill our fantasy'_ look. You're the only single pringle left, sweetie.”

Clarke groaned, dropping her bag on the couch as she started toward her room.

“No, you guys. Stay out of my business, I mean it.”

She was slipping off her shoes at the foot of her bed when Octavia walked in and tossed herself onto Clarke's bed. Raven was there a second later, sitting on the edge and lounging back, her head resting on Octavia's stomach.

“I'm thinking Kyle has some good buddies,” Raven said thoughtfully, apparently content to ignore Clarke's request. “There's this one friend he introduced me to a few days ago at the bar … Marco, or something. He was _fine_ , Clarke. Just your type.”

“How would you know my type?” she muttered, taking her bra off from under her shirt and tossing it in her laundry hamper.

“Are you taking a dig at your _self_?” Raven asked with a grin and Clarke rolled her eyes, shucking her jeans.

“No, I'm stating a fact,” she said, tousling her hair as she plopped down onto the bed with them, sitting sideways between Octavia's opened legs. “Maybe I don't even _like_ guys, have you thought of that?”

“Um, excuse me,” said Octavia, rising on her elbows to see her better. “Don't act like you don't lose your shit whenever you see Shia LaBeouf anywhere doing anything.”

Clarke pressed her lips together to hide her smile. “I'll tell you what: you two bring Shia to the cabin? I'll happily make out with him all Summer. Otherwise, I'm not playing your little games.”

Raven laughed, but Octavia fell back against the bed, muttering, “We'll see about that.”

After a few minutes of bickering, Octavia climbed out from under the other two and left the room, saying she was calling Lincoln to come over because Raven and Clarke were boring her to death, so Clarke was forced to put on shorts.

Lincoln brought Murphy and Kyle with him, and they all three strolled in wearing sweatpants and zip up hoodies, their usual attire for relaxing—Murphy was also wearing a beanie. On behalf of the three of them, Kyle was carrying a grocery bag of Tostitos and salsa, cookies, chips, and a huge bag of jelly beans, all as payment for the girls beating them at Super Smash Bros the week before.

All three boys ended up staying the night because apparently they didn't have their own house. Clarke was the last to retire to her room after a short water fight in the bathroom with Murphy—“I swear I'll throw you in the tub if you don't stop, Murphy,” she'd said, and he'd thoughtfully tilted his head, water cupped in his hands, saying, “If I remember correctly, you started this, Clarke,” but he dropped the water in the sink and playfully punched her in the shoulder as he left.

While she drifted off, Clarke tried to come up with a plausible excuse to use on her friends tomorrow morning when she was heading for Bellamy's; 'tried' being the operative word. She never did think of anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I don't think I've ever been so excited to write a fic before.. I'm geeking out over all I can do with this lol. This is gonna be a wild ride. Fricken buckle up, mangs.  
> Also, if any of you caught my little stab at 50 Shades by Clarke calling the idea of a sex contract 'juvenile', just know I _could_ not resist.  
>  Another also, I'm very, very, very, very eager to get to the Bellamy/Clarke stuff and I didn't want to rush this chapter, but I sort of couldn't help it. I _need_ to write Bellamy teaching Clarke how to kiss. I need it so very much.
> 
> Because I'm so obsessed with this idea, expect another chapter in like, t-minus two minutes.


	3. Five Problems With Clarke's Kissing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to put this up sooner, but then I realized I'd have to write Clarke being bad-ish at kissing and Bellamy being like ... _supreme_ or something ahaha.. I didn't realize that would take some figuring out on my part.
> 
> And now, here it is, the first enactment of #1 of the 'contract'.

By some miracle—because she certainly hadn't thought to set an alarm—Clarke woke up earlier than everyone else. Well … everyone besides Murphy.

After she'd dressed in black leggings and a loose sweater, she left her room, carefully closing the door behind her when Murphy's voice sliced through the silence.

“Are you sneaking?”

She let out a small gasp and spun around, clutching her hand to her heart. Murphy was in the kitchen standing next to the coffeemaker, which was gurgling away and filling the coffee pot. When he saw the shocked look on Clarke's face, he gave a short laugh.

“Where are you going so early?” he asked, much too loudly to be beneficial to Clarke.

“Could you keep your voice down?” she hissed, rolling her shoulders as she started to the door, her shoes dangling in her hand.

“What's up with you?” he asked quietly, turning his back on her and taking out a mug from the cupboard as he pulled the coffee pot from the maker.

“Nothing,” she said quickly, clearing her throat and stopping at the door to put her shoes on. “Can you do me a favour?”

“Cover for you?” he asked, glancing over and snickering.

Clarke smiled. It was a blessing he'd never cared what any of them did with their time.

“If it's not too much trouble.”

Shaking his head, Murphy shrugged a shoulder, pouring himself a cup.

“Hey, man … no trouble at all. You do you.”

She narrowed her eyes, straightening now that her shoes were on. That sounded an awful lot like  _I'm not going to judge you for sneaking out to have sex with someone_. Or maybe she was just paranoid.

“What does that mean, 'you do you'?” she asked, trying to keep her voice low. “I'm not like, a booty call or something.”

Murphy snorted, bringing his mug to his lips.

“I wouldn't believe you if you said you were,” he said, laughing lightly when she scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“All right, well,” she said, opening the door, "tell them I went to the library or something.”

“Sure,” he said, tilting his head left and right as though contemplating. “Or I could make it believable.”

She wasn't about to argue that.

“Thanks, Murphy.”

“Anytime.”

* * *

Like yesterday, Bellamy buzzed her up without a word.  _Un_ like yesterday, he was alone.

“Hey,” she said, locking the door behind her because, well … just in case.

“Morning,” he said, looking stern as he came toward her.

He reached around her to press his hand to the middle of her back and guide her into the living room.

“I thought we could start with something easy,” he said, sitting on the couch and gesturing for her to do the same. “We've got all week to work our way up, so we might as well get the bare basics out of the way first.”

“Someone's all business,” she said, taking a seat and angling her knees toward him.

“I work at ten,” he said seriously. “No time for screwing around.”

“Oh, like teaching me is gonna take two hours,” she said, rolling her eyes, but he didn't answer.

Moving closer, he reached up to cradle Clarke's face with one hand. It took her off guard, reminding her that this was  _Bellamy_  and he was about to put his mouth … on her mouth. Obviously, she knew this would happen, but she hadn't taken the time to properly think about it. Or about the fact that he'd be her first kiss, and it wouldn't be how she'd always imagined it: with someone she cared about who made her skin hot and her pulse rapid.

Except maybe that wasn't true, because Bellamy was leaning in and her cheeks were suddenly burning, her heart was racing in nervousness, and of  _course_  she cared about him. Just … not exactly in the way she'd hoped she'd care about the person who gave her this moment.

“I need to kiss you normally to see what you're like,” he said quietly, pausing so close to her face that she could feel his breath fanning over her mouth. “Then I'll figure out what to do from there.”

Panic tore through Clarke's chest. Years from now when she had a family—a husband or a wife, children—she'd look back on her first kiss with disinterest. It wouldn't be anything special, not to mention it would be with Bellamy instead of someone with whom she was in love. Suddenly, Clarke wasn't so sure she could do this.

“Wait,” she said quickly, pressing her hands to his chest and pushing just as he lips brushed over hers.

Surprised and now a good distance away, Bellamy looked down at her hands and then back to her eyes, question in his face.

With a slump of her shoulders, she let her hands fall to her lap.

“I don't want my first kiss to be some kind of lesson.”

Bellamy glanced down to her mouth for a split second before looking back up.

Sighing regretfully, she shook her head, about to stand and leave with an apology, but Bellamy touched her leg and she stilled.

He moved even closer, his foot tucked underneath him. He brought both hands to her face, his thumbs against her jaw and his fingers gently pressing the sides of her neck. Dragging his thumbs under her chin, he tilted her head back and leaned forward, coming up onto his knee as he did. When he was close, he searched her eyes, raising his eyebrows in question. She gave him a small nod before she knew what she was doing and parted her lips, closing her eyes just as she felt his mouth against hers. He took her lower lip between his, his thumbs moving in a trail from under her chin down to her throat. His lips were light and soft, surprisingly careful. With a small suctioning feeling against her lip, he pulled back, putting enough distance between them so she could see him comfortably without straining her eyes.

“Good?” he asked softly, sliding his hands from her face down her arms.

“How would I know?” she asked, but her lips were tingling, longing to feel that kiss again.

Bellamy seemed to know, if the look on his face was anything to go by. He was waiting for her to answer properly.

“Yeah, it was,” she muttered, dropping her eyes. “Thanks.”

He nodded once. “Then let's get started.”

Without warning, he was kissing her again, but this one was much different. She could feel him moving expertly against her lips, like they were something malleable. He'd started out with his hand on her upper arm, but now it was against her face again, holding her in place and occasionally stroking her cheek.

For the most part, Clarke had no idea how to react. She was trying to match whatever he was doing, kissing one lip at a time, applying pressure, holding the kiss for varying lengths of time, but it was impossible to know if she was doing any good. A few times when he'd tilted his head, she'd tilted hers the same way, which made him grunt in annoyance, tightening his hold on her to stop her from moving. By the time he pulled away hardly a minute later, she was already feeling incredibly discouraged. The wary way he was watching her definitely wasn't helping, either.

“All right, there are a few things,” he said breathlessly, using the back of his thumb to wipe the corner of his mouth.

“What, already?” she asked, her face falling.

“It doesn't take long to figure out when something's not good.”

Well, if  _that_ didn't make her self-esteem drop.... Clenching her jaw, she swallowed, sitting back against the couch and nodding.

“Fine,” she said, forcing herself to hold his gaze. “Tell me.”

He looked doubtful. “You think you can handle it?”

“Bellamy,” she snapped. She wasn't sure her ego could take the sympathy.

He sighed, leaning his elbow on his knee while he set his other hand on his thigh.

“For starters,” he said, and she winced—'starters', like there were so many things to correct, “your pressure's way off. You're too shy about kissing me back and when you do, it causes problems. You're not in the moment, you don't do anything with your hands, and I could feel you holding your breath.”

Her face was flaming.

“No, don't be embarrassed,” he said, which only made it worse. “It's not like I expected much—”

“Okay, enough,” she said sharply, raising her hands to get him to stop. She was about ready to tie in this whole thing if he continued describing how awful she was. Then she'd be stuck in a virginal limbo for the rest of her life, too afraid of being bad at romance to ever even try. “Can we do it again? I thought you wanted me to be mostly unresponsive.”

He huffed, looking completely dumbfounded.

“Why would you think that?”

“I don't know, I just did,” she said, scooting closer to him. “Just come here. Let me try again.”

Bellamy took a deep breath, sighing it out through his nose as he obeyed, moving toward her so she could reach him. At any rate, he didn't say anything about her being sloppy or wet, which was what she'd been most worried about. If everything else failed, at least there was that.

Touching his shoulders, Clarke cleared her throat, staring determinedly at his mouth. She flicked her eyes up for a moment to see him watching her before she moved in, closing her eyes and—

Missing his mouth. A thick, heavy ball of embarrassment got stuck in her chest.

“Don't say anything,” she said darkly, moving her lips up from his chin and covering his mouth with hers before he even had the chance.

This time, she kept in mind everything he'd said. Making sure to breathe, she slid one of her hands along Bellamy's shoulder to the base of his neck, thinking of nothing but the warmth of his skin under her touch and the feel of his mouth pressed to hers. That made things a bit strange, though, because now she could only picture Bellamy's face and his lips as they followed her lead. She broke away for a moment, breathing deeply and swallowing before pressing right back against him, moving closer so that she was half on his lap. She understood properly what Bellamy meant about being in the moment when she felt his fingers on her leg, one of his hands moving up to clutch her waist. Clearly, he was having no problem being present. He kissed her harder, and that was when Clarke remembered: 'pressure's all wrong,' he'd said.

The one before this had only been her second kiss, so really, she thought he could stand to give her a break. She wasn't exactly confident when it came to kissing someone, especially when she'd never done it before and when it was with a man who was nothing more than a friend. Now, however, while it felt like she was almost in charge … she might as well try to fix it.

She'd heard Raven talk about some of the nightmare hookups she had before she met Kyle, where the guy kissed her so hard that her mouth started to hurt, so Clarke tried to find a pressure between the two. When she did, Bellamy let out a breathy sound of appreciation that had Clarke tensing. She broke away, leveling him with an impatient look.

“Don't make it weird.”

He touched the back of her neck to pull her back to him, fitting his mouth to hers again before she could protest.

“I'm not.”

“You are,” she murmured, chuckling breathily against his mouth.

“Stop laughing,” he said, his voice just as quiet as hers. “Is something funny to you?”

“Yes, everything that's happening right now.”

“Be quiet for a second,” he mumbled, and then so suddenly that she let out a surprised gasp, Bellamy's hands clamped around her hips and pulled her between his legs, which she hadn't even noticed him open.

In all honesty, it  _was_  a better position—it made the pressure in her neck from straining disappear, and she was closer now, so her arms weren't stretched out between them—but Bellamy slid his hand snugly around her back and forced her against his chest, while his other hand snuck into her hair. If he was this into it, maybe it was  _too_  good of a position.

But she was feeling a swell of pride, because they'd been kissing for much longer than just a  _minute_  and instead of pulling back at this point, Bellamy was pulling her closer. Kissing was fun when she was doing okay, so she let herself indulge for a little bit longer.

Her body was twisted at an awkward angle, her legs hanging off the couch, so she figured if Bellamy was making things easier for himself by pulling her into him, then she could do the same. She turned, keeping their lips together as she pushed Bellamy so his back was against the couch. Lifting her knee, she set it next to his thigh and moved closer, doing the same with the other so she was straddling his lap. Immediately, his arm wrapped around her, joining the other.

“Is this good?” she breathed as she pulled his bottom lip into her mouth, gently grazing him with her teeth. He'd done it earlier to her, and since she liked it, she thought she'd return the favour.

Bellamy nodded lightly, keeping his mouth on hers.

“Yeah,” he said, tightening his hold on her and pulling her firmly against him. “It's good.”

She smiled against his mouth, feeling victorious.

“Great,” she said cheerfully, giving him one more long kiss, his face in her hands, before she pulled away and slid off his lap. She laughed at the surprise on his face. “We're not making out just to make out, you know that, right?”

He snickered, quickly coming back to himself as he stood.

“Practice makes perfect, doesn't it?” he said, closing the distance between them and pulling her into another kiss.

Clarke didn't predict kissing Bellamy would be so ... nice. Even though he was the only person she'd done this with and she didn't have anyone else to use in comparison, she didn't doubt he was as good as she thought.

They kissed for a while after that, Bellamy sitting on the couch again and pulling her back onto his lap. Every so often when she was getting a bit lazy, he encouraged her to touch him, and he definitely wasn't shy about touching her (though he stayed clear of her chest, which she appreciated … at this stage, that definitely would have been strange).

When her lips were beginning to numb—something she hadn't anticipated—she pulled away, telling Bellamy she had to stop. He still held her, though, his hands curled around her waist and  _her_  hands on his shoulders.

“I should go,” she said quietly when he leaned his head back against the couch, giving her a small smile. “Do I come again tomorrow?”

“Not tomorrow,” he said, his expression shifting. “You didn't  _forget_ , did you?” At her confusion, he added, “O made us all take work off for the fair.”

“Oh! Right, of course.” The illustrious  _fair_  was in town. The only ones who'd actually wanted to go were Octavia and Wick, but somehow, the pair of them managed to rope in the rest of the group. “The day  _after_  tomorrow, then?”

Bellamy sighed, losing his grip on her waist so that his hands slid down to rest on her thighs.

“I've got work all day Sunday. I won't be home until nine.”

“So you'd rather not?” she asked, sitting back slightly and thinking about what an odd conversation this was to have while sitting on his lap after a platonic make out session. ( _T_ _here_ was a phrase she'd never heard before. Who had platonic make out sessions?)

“That's not a bit late for you?” he asked, pulling her from her thoughts, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“What do you mean, 'for me'?” she asked, somehow offended.

“Isn't Sunday your one day off from work and school?”

“Yeah, and?” she said, still not understanding.

Bellamy didn't look like he knew what he was talking about, either.

“Don't you need … rest or something?”

“What?” Clarke scoffed, laughing lightly as she crawled off his lap. “Look, if you're good for Sunday night, then so am I.”

He snickered. “Whatever you say, Princess.”

Clarke looked at the clock. She was stunned to see that just over an hour had passed since she left home.

“You have work soon, right?” she said, running her fingers through her hair.

Bellamy jerked off the couch and started for his room.

“Shit,” he hissed, glancing back at the clock and slowing when he saw the time. “'Soon'? There's still an hour before my shift. It's not like I need a lot of time to get ready.”

She rolled her eyes. “Sorry, I forgot you were a guy.”

“Doubt it,” he said, disappearing into his room.

“Hey, actually, do you mind if I stay here for a bit?” she called, throwing herself down onto the couch and reaching for the remote to the TV. “Murphy, Lincoln, and Kyle all came over last night and they're still there.”

“What, and I didn't get an invite?” he asked, his voice slightly muffled.

“The only one who got an invite was Lincoln,” she said, turning the TV on and searching for something that wasn't news. “I don't know why the other two showed up.”

She heard him laugh. “Sounds like them. Anyway, yeah, you can stay. Don't let anyone up if they don't have the code.”

A deep frown settled on her face.

“Wait, who has the code?” she asked, turning the volume down on the TV.

“Just O.”

“Oh, right,” she said, relaxing and not knowing why she'd been tense in the first place.

“Don't mess anything up, either,” he said after a moment when he came out of his room, dressed in a white button down, the sleeves rolled to the elbow and the hem tucked into black dress pants.

“That's  _all_  I'm gonna do,” she said, crossing her ankles and settling on the TLC channel because  _Say Yes to the Dress_  was on and she was  _all_  about that.

Bellamy snorted, whether at her show choice or her joke, she didn't know. She pulled her knees up without moving her eyes from the TV, giving Bellamy room to sit. As soon as he did, though, the intercom by the door buzzed and an all too familiar voice spoke into the apartment.

“Bell, you still home?”

Clarke's heart stopped. She snapped her wide eyes over to Bellamy, seeing a nearly identical expression mirrored on his face. They were both holding their breath, as though Octavia would hear them if they didn't. Clarke thought Octavia might leave if they gave it a minute, and Bellamy seemed to think so, as well, because he wasn't doing anything, either. But then—

“I'm coming up.”

There was one long, still moment where neither did anything. But Clarke didn't have time for that. In her haste to stand, she fell off the couch and  _thumped_  onto the floor. Bellamy—she could not believe him right now—started laughing. She was too horrified at the situation to give it much attention, though, her eyes immediately finding the window that lead out onto the fire escape.

That was the only way.

She clamboured to her feet, giving Bellamy one last look before bounding toward the window, her heart slamming against her ribcage.

"What are you doing?" he asked, taking a step toward her.

She unclasped the window and pulled it open, trying to fit herself through the small opening.

“I have to jump.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The picture I had in my head of that entire ending scene had me laughing so hard.. I wish you guys could see what I saw.
> 
> And honestly, Octavia has the ~~best~~ worst timing.


	4. Such A Nuisance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 09/10/2015  
> Rewrote this chapter to have it make more sense. It's short, of course, which it was originally, but the updates will be longer now as we get deeper into the story; new chapter coming soon.

It took exactly three minutes for Octavia to reach Bellamy's apartment. Clarke knew because she'd been watching the clock above the stove since Bellamy gracelessly yanked her back into the apartment with a roll of his eyes—“You're not jumping out the window, Clarke.”

After arguing with him in hushed tones, trying to hide herself in his bathtub, and eventually settling for sitting at his dining table with a cup of coffee, there was the telltale noise of the locked doorknob turning and then Octavia's muffled voice talking to herself.

_“Maybe he did already leave for work.”_

Clarke was staring at the back of Bellamy's head, thinking they found themselves in a wonderfully fortunate situation and that Octavia would be leaving anytime. But then Bellamy - a genius of a man, truly - unlocked the door and swung it open, hanging off of it as he leaned out into the hall, beckoning Octavia over. Clarke tried not to look horrified and failed miserably, her eyes wide and beady, but neither Blake sibling could see her.

“Hey, O,” he said tightly, blocking the doorway and clearing his throat. “Do you need something?”

Clarke heard her scoff. “What are you doing? Do you have a girl here or something?”

Her question was answered when she pushed Bellamy's arm down and strode into the room, her eyes locking on Clarke's in an instant. She came to an abrupt stop, her lips parting and her eyebrows pulling together.

“Clarke?” she said, complete bemusement dampening her features. “What are you doing here? Murphy said you went to get groceries.”

Clarke nodded like she knew what Octavia was talking about. Trying to appear nonchalant, she leaned back in the chair and crossed her legs.

“Traffic was bad, so I came here to kill time until the work crowd cleared up.”

Octavia's frown deepened and she let out a small burst of a laugh. “What? You came to Bellamy's to kill time? Since when did you two get all close?”

Sweat was starting to clam up her palms, probably compensating for the dryness in her mouth.

“It's just that he, um - he lives close to the store. I would have come home, but then what would be the point of going ... at all ... you know...."

Clarke glanced sharply at Bellamy, trying to urge him to help her out with the lie, but he looked just as lost as Octavia. Absolute  _genius_  of a man!

“You're acting really weird,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at the nervous look on Bellamy's face before turning back to Clarke, her eyes narrowing.

"I'm acting how I normally act," said Clarke, her voice breaking slightly.

"Clarke, what is going on?" Octavia demanded, walking over to Clarke and kneeling in front of her, resting her hand on her knee. "Are you in some kind of trouble or something?"

Bellamy snorted and both girls turned their attention to him. He was still for a moment before rolling his eyes and sitting on the back of his couch, gesturing with his crossed arms for them to continue.

"If I was in trouble, I wouldn't come to Bellamy," she said, though immediately after, she realized it wasn't likely true. In fact, he probably  _would_ be the first person she'd seek out. Something about him made it seem like he'd be able to handle high stress situations. Which was entirely besides the point, though, because Octavia's expression had changed from one of befuddlement to suspicion and she dropped her hand from Clarke's thigh, standing and backing away a few steps.

"You were gone early in the morning," she started, looking between Clarke and Bellamy as though she had a hunch. "Murphy had an alibi ready for you, and then I come to Bell's and you're here ... nothing's going on between you two, right?"

Dread seeped into Clarke's stomach, gripping tightly at her from the inside, making her want to keel over and throw up. She and Bellamy had just barely started the contract deal whatever it was and already they were being found out by Octavia. Clarke could already hear the teasing from her friends and the subsequent rooting for her and Bellamy to  _a_ _ctually_  get romantically involved. Of _course_ that was how things would play out, considering that she and Bellamy were among the small number of people in their friend group without partners, and considering that one time years ago when Octavia offhandedly remarked about how great it would be for her best friend and her brother to fall in love, and considering her friends really seemed to have nothing better to do than to get involved in her love life. But what else could she do besides confess? They were caught red-handed (sort of) and she was always really bad at coming up with lies, especially when the person she was lying to was her best friend who knew her way too well.

God, she was absolutely not ready for what would unfold as a result of what she was about to do.

However, before she even took a breath, Bellamy was already speaking.

"I'll just tell you."

Clarke snapped her eyes to him, but he was looking at Octavia, and now Octavia was looking at him back.

"Bellamy, please -" Clarke started to say, but he quickly and loudly cut her off.

"She came over to ask me to hook her up with one of my friends so she wouldn't get made fun of for being a virgin at the cabin."

Two things were instantly stuck in her thoughts: Bellamy's tactic was to use a bad lie to cover a worse truth and she wasn't the least bit grateful about it (he could have come up with something more virtuous,  _honestly_ ), and something about Bellamy, specifically Bellamy, so casually referring to her as a virgin somehow rubbed her the wrong way. She didn't have any time to contemplate why, though, because Octavia's voice was quickly cutting through the silence.

"Aw, Clarke!," she said, looking regretful. "You don't have to come to Bellamy for that. You know Raven and I were trying to find you someone."

Clarke cleared her throat and sat straighter, going along with the scheme. "I know, I just thought Bellamy might know a few more people since he gets around a lot."

He scoffed, standing from the couch.

"Sorry to break this up, but I'm gonna be late for work," he said, not even bothering to deny Clarke's claim. "Did you come here for a reason, O?" 

“Oh, right," she murmured, reaching around to her purse and shuffling through it before pulling out a stack of mail and handing it to Bellamy. "You shouldn't have moved out if you weren't going to tell people you changed your address. I'm tired of having to bring your mail to you. And Mom forgot where you live again, I think, 'cause there are a few things in there from her."

“This couldn't have waited until later?” he asked, idly rifling through the envelopes before tossing them on the couch.

“Sorry,” she said, adjusting her purse strap on her shoulder. “Lincoln and I are on our way to the gym, so I thought I'd stop by before you went to work.”

Clarke grew more alert at that. “Lincoln's here?”

Octavia nodded. “He's down in his car.”

“Does that mean everyone else is gone, too?” Clarke asked, sitting straighter and hoping she could go home.

Octavia squinted, as though trying to remember.

“Raven and Wick were still asleep when I left and Murphy said he doesn't work until four, so they're probably all still at home. Anyway, I think I've left Lincoln waiting long enough. And you, Clarke,” she said sternly, pointing a finger, "don't go asking Bellamy for help with romance. He only has one night stands, he doesn't know enough to help."

"Thank, O," he said, his voice full of sarcasm.

"It's true," she said in the same tone, bending down to give Clarke a one-armed hug while she stuck her tongue out at Bellamy's smirking face, but then immediately leaping away when she saw him grab for a pillow to hurl at her, no doubt.

With a small bounce on the balls of her feet, she smiled slyly at Clarke and left the apartment, closing the door behind her. There were a few seconds of stillness in the apartment where Clarke let the silence wash over her in waves, a welcome static after the strangely dramatic encounter moments ago. And then Clarke abruptly jumped to her feet and threw Bellamy an accusing glare as she walked to the living room with her coffee.

“Did you really have to let her in?” she asked, sitting grumpily in the corner of the couch and feeling more than a little stressed out.

“She has a key. I thought she would have just unlocked it herself,” he said, taking a seat next to her and reclining back until his feet were resting in Clarke's lap. When she immediately shoved them off, he didn't say anything, planting them on the floor instead as though he expected her move.

It was quiet for a few minutes, both of them staring at the TV, but Bellamy's sudden, loud snort broke the trance.

“What?” she asked, looking over at him, his eyes on the TV.

He smirked, meeting her gaze for a brief moment.

“You're an awful liar.”

Rolling her eyes, she looked away, sipping at her coffee, but Bellamy didn't seem to want to leave it at that.

“One of the worst I've ever seen.”

“Yeah, well, what about you and your stupid, 'oh, Clarke wants me to hook her up with one of my friends'? As if that wasn't a shoddy lie."

"What lie? You asked me to get you someone by the time the six weeks are up," he said, looking smug. "What's that about anyway?"

"What are you talking about?" she snapped, suddenly testy with him.

"Why don't I just set you up with someone right now?"

Clarke gaped at him until he looked at her and then she kicked him hard in the leg.

"Because that would be cheating!" she criticized, giving him her best judgmental look as he sat up, sliding slightly away from her and rubbing at his leg. "Which is obviously something you don't care about."

"Who said I don't?" he asked, looking mildly confused, but mostly defensive.

"Well, considering you're suggesting I do it."

"I was not!"

"What do you call it, then? Having a boyfriend and doing ... whatever else with you on the side?"

He scoffed. "Obviously if you managed to get a boyfriend before we finished the contract, we'd be done."

"Then what's the point of doing any of this in the first place!" she demanded shrilly, setting the coffee down after she'd almost spilled it.

"All right, all right, calm down," he said, giving a short laugh. "If you only want to be with me for six weeks, I get it. It's fine."

"I swear to God, Bellamy ...." she warned, glaring at him, but the playful look on his face caused a good majority of her steam to evaporate.

“Well, I'm gonna head out,” he said, stretching as he stood, which caused his shirt to pull up from where he'd tucked it in. Carefully tucking it back beneath the hem of his pants, he added, “You're still staying here?”

She sighed, rolling her neck.

“No, I'll go home,” she said, standing up and shutting the TV off. “I have an essay to finish before class at one.”

“Sure, whatever,” he said, heading to the door and pulling his jacket from the hook. “Let's go, then.”

By the time she returned home, _actually_ having ended up making a trip to the grocery store, she expected everyone to be gone. It was almost 10:30, which meant Wick and Raven were both at the car shop and Raven must have kicked Murphy out before they left.

Except she didn't.

As soon as Clarke opened the door to her apartment, she spotted his beanie-clad head poking out from where it rested on the arm of the couch. The TV wasn't on, so she thought he'd gone back to sleep, but when she'd closed the door and started toward the kitchen, he let out a long, stretching noise.

Nearly screaming, she whirled around, the groceries clutched tightly against her.

"God, you scared me," she said, heading again to the kitchen.

“Is something on your mind, Clarke?” he asked, his voice too calm. "You seem jumpy."

“No,” she said, setting the bags on the counter and pulling out the contents. “Something on yours?”

“Mmm,” he started, sounding contemplative, “I can't quite figure out why you needed me to cover for you when you were just going to Bellamy's.”

She snapped her head up to look at him and didn't say a word until he elaborated.

“Octavia called me. She asked if I lied about you going to the grocery store to cover for you and Bellamy. Seems a bit strange.”

She didn't know how to worm her way out of this one because if the way he was studying her was any indication, he definitely had a hunch—and it seemed like he was on the right track with it, too. Regardless of the fact that he was the one who bugged her the most about not being able to 'get with anyone', and regardless of the fact that he usually didn't care about what any of them did in their own time, he was undeniably ready to push this, apparently having latched on to whatever idea he had about what Clarke was doing at Bellamy's … _with_ Bellamy. Normally, she'd be able to convince herself she was only being paranoid, but in this case, there wasn't much else he could assume besides the truth.

“What did you tell her?” she asked quickly, stalling for time.

Murphy closed his book and tossed it on the end table.

“The truth,” he said, tilting his chin up and narrowing his eyes. “I _was_ covering for you, wasn't I?”

She was trying her hardest not to swallow the lump in her throat, because if he saw, he'd know she was nervous and it would blow her whole cover.

“Whatever you think, it's not that," she said, looking away from him and going back to unbagging her groceries.

“No, yeah, you were probably just hanging out, right?" he said, a smile in his voice.

Clarke's voice was harder than she intended when she spoke. “What else would we be doing?”

She could hear his snicker.

“Beats me,” he said, grabbing his book and lying back down with a light sigh.

After that, Clarke couldn't quite get him off her back. Their relationship quickly morphed into a cat and mouse game. In the afternoon—namely around five when everyone but Raven and Wick were over—Clarke was constantly left feeling like she'd been caught doing something whenever she locked eyes with Murphy while she was talking to Bellamy. Without a doubt, he knew something was up, and while Clarke was certain he couldn't have figured out the exact details, she wasn't naïve. Whatever inkling he had about her and Bellamy must have contained romantic notions.

If she were being honest, she thought about coming clean to him. The only problem was that when she ran through in her head each and every scenario that could unfold, it all ended with Clarke suffering from crippling embarrassment and the teasing about her innocence increasing. On top of that, there was always the chance that the awkwardness the rest of her friends would inevitably create between her and Bellamy would eventually get to her (or him) and it would ruin their friendship, which she was very adamant about keeping.

Even worse, Octavia might get it into her head that the boyfriend she'd been wanting to hook up with Clarke had been Bellamy all along, and there was absolutely no way Clarke was going to let Octavia try to match make her with Bellamy. The idea that Clarke could think of Bellamy in a romantic light was more than just a little unrealistic, and she knew the same could be said for him. They'd known each other for years, so if there was a chance of anything like that happening between them, it would have already.

* * *

Clarke didn't have much hope for the fair being fun, but her spirits were dampened even more when Murphy wouldn't stop watching her with his intense hawk eyes and acting like he was noticing things going on between Clarke and Bellamy. In reality, neither of them were acting any different than normal, and none of their other friends looked like they cared about whatever the pair of them were up to, but Murphy was staring at them like he was uncovering long-hidden secrets. It was almost as bad as him teasing her about being inexperienced.

When Clarke and Bellamy sat next to each other on the Ferris wheel, Murphy smirked, which was really just stupid, all things considered. They were the only two left without seats and Octavia insisted they all ride it together, so what were she and Bellamy supposed to do? It was like Murphy thought they planned the whole thing. Once the ride was over, Clarke had to resist the urge to smack him upside the head. That would only cause need of an explanation, and well, that could only lead to the unfolding of secrets she wanted to keep hidden.

And then a while later, when she and Bellamy went into the photo booth together, Murphy narrowed his eyes at them like they were committing some great crime. Forget that Clarke had already been in the same photo booth together with Raven and Octavia, and then once with Jasper after that, or that Bellamy was the only one who hadn't taken any pictures at that point and was forced inside by Raven because he was 'being a wet towel'. Still, Murphy seemed to think he was some sort of sleuth, like Clarke and Bellamy were fooling all their friends and there was something romantic between them.

And then _again_ , after Bellamy won a stuffed horse at a water gun game and gave it to Clarke because she was the only girl who didn't have any sort of prize yet, Murphy started shaking his head in disbelief. She was friends with him and they got along really well most of the time, but the stupid faces he was making were driving her over the edge. It wouldn't even have been as bothersome if she and Bellamy were really trying to accomplish some sort of secret romance right in front of everyone'e eyes, which of _course_ wasn't the case, but he wasn't even basing his hunches on anything substantial! And he just would not  _stop_. It went on like that for the rest of the time they were at the fair, and he was being so completely obvious about his spying that Bellamy was starting to catch on.

“Have you noticed Murphy's been staring at us for a while?” he asked when they were all nearing to the parking lot in the late afternoon (Octavia was carrying a giant, white teddy bear courtesy of Lincoln, and Wick was holding a fudgsicle courtesy of Raven).

Clarke looked over at Bellamy and followed his gaze to Murphy standing with Miller and Monty at Miller's car. The latter two were absorbed in their conversation, but as Bellamy said, Murphy was staring at him and Clarke.

She rolled her eyes and quickened her pace to her car.

“He knows something about ... you know,” she said quietly, glancing around to make sure none of their friends were close enough to hear. Octavia and Raven were a good distance away with Jasper at Raven's jeep, laughing at something their boyfriends were doing, so Bellamy and Clarke were alone, which just  _had_ to be a juicy detail for Murphy.

“What? About us?" Bellamy asked, looking back at him again.

Clarke nodded, opening the back door of her car and dropping the stuffed horse on the backseat before slamming it shut and crossing her arms, leaning back against it.

"We should probably try to stay away from each other for a while," she said, making a strenuous effort not to look in Murphy's direction.

Bellamy rolled his eyes. "That's more suspicious than anything."

"Well, I don't know what else to do," she said, her voice hushed. "At least I shouldn't come over in the middle of the night anymore."

"Then how are you gonna learn anything?" he asked, looking like he was only half joking.

"We'll have to figure something else out. I feel like he'll know if I leave, like, he's turning into a stalker. And I don't even know why he's so curious. He usually doesn't care about any of us."

Bellamy let out a breathy laugh and rested against Clarke's car. "I wouldn't worry about it. As soon as you start dating someone else, he'll stop being nosy. It'll be like nothing with us ever happened."

"Yeah, just as long as you don't fall for me," she teased, bumping her shoulder into his arm.

Bellamy scoffed, rolling away from her and starting off toward his own car.

"That'll never happen, Princess."


	5. No Harm, No Foul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Chapter uploaded 30/12/2015*
> 
> To be completely honest, I kind of forgot about this fic even though I'm really excited to write it, so that's the reason for the lack of updates. I haven't forgotten about it (if you've read my other fics, I haven't forgotten about them either and in case you were wondering, I'll be finishing all of them).
> 
> I'm gonna be using Canadian drinking ages (18-19) because the majority of the gang would be underage in the U.S. and that's just an annoying thing to have to work into the plot. So for the sake of this story, they're all legal.  
> Also, I didn't edit this because I'm tired as balls, so I'll have to do that when I wake up.  
> All right, carry on.

Everyone left the fair at roughly the same time and they all ended up at the girls' apartment. Well, all of them except Miller, who had a ten page research paper due on Sunday morning that he hadn't started (his deadline had even been extended three days since his Biology professor was fond of him), so he'd gone straight home from their outing. The point was that Murphy was there, and even though he was laughing with their friends and goofing around, there was this all-knowing expression on his face that hadn't lifted since he'd spotted Clarke and Bellamy enter the apartment together a few minutes after everyone else.

Outside the building, before they'd gone up, the two of them had told Octavia that they would be up in a minute, that Bellamy just wanted to show Clarke some potential partners that he'd already picked out for her (the excuse _was_ plausible and considering Octavia already seemed convinced about it, Clarke didn't see the harm. As predicted, it worked and she left Clarke and Bellamy outside. The rest of their friends didn't even know they were staying behind). It wasn't a good idea to be alone together considering Murphy's glaringly obvious suspicions (whatever they might be), but Clarke had a lot of time to overthink on the drive home, so when she arrived, she'd been jittery and nervous and thought they should come up with a plan. What if Murphy told the rest of their friends something was going on? What if he didn't believe Bellamy was helping Clarke with prospective partners? It was one thing to fool Octavia (she was gullible, which wasn't because she was stupid, but she was a very trusting person and Clarke knew Octavia wouldn't think her brother and her best friend were pulling one over on her), but Murphy was a skeptical person and he was mistrustful to a degree in the first place. So she wanted to meet quickly with Bellamy and figure out what to do if Murphy knew. Because he did; he knew. She could tell he knew. There was no way he'd figured out the details of what was going on, but that meant the only other thing he could suspect was that Clarke and Bellamy were secretly dating. That was in spite of the fact that he was the one who most liked to make fun of Clarke for having never been kissed, let alone anything else remotely intimate.

Since she'd met Murphy years ago, he'd been like the annoying, overbearing older brother she never had. It was nice on occasion since that role also entailed being protective, getting her out of her funks with humour, and giving her advice only an older brother could - or, well, older brother figure. Tomato, tomahto, it was all the same - but it could also be embarrassingly argumentative. She confided in him a lot (on the scale of who knew most of Clarke's secrets from the lot of them, he was up there near the top; right alongside Raven and Octavia), and because of that, he'd blackmailed her more times than she could count. Not with anything serious, because he was really good with keeping her personal secrets to himself, but if knew - oh,  _God,_ if he knew what she was up to with Bellamy, it would be the end for her. He could hold that over her for the rest of her life, always making her do things for him and knowing that she would because he had seriously embarrassing information about her dangling over her head, threatening to spill out with a slip of his hand right into the open where everyone could see it.

But that was only if he found out about the contract, and Clarke  _would not_ let that happen.

As it was, though, Bellamy didn't seem very concerned.

They were huddled close together by the entrance, whispering about why it was such a big deal (on Clarke's part) and why it really wasn't (on Bellamy's).

"What's so bad about it if they find out?" he asked, lowering his voice mid-way when Clarke widened her eyes at him.

"My life ends, that's what's so bad!" she snapped.

Bellamy gave a short laugh, shaking his head.

"So you'll be embarrassed for a little while. It's not that big of a deal."

"I can't believe you're doing this to me right now," she whispered in a rush, glancing up to make sure no one was watching them from their balcony before turning her accusing eyes back to Bellamy. "We made a contract, okay? We even signed it. Do you remember what it said in that contract?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah. I remember."

"Oh, really? So the part about none of our friends finding out  _ever_ is still fresh in your mind?"

"I know what it says on the contract," he said, looking all at once playful. "I wrote it."

Clarke exhaled sharply and ran a hand through her hair.

"I know you don't care if it gets out, but it's a serious thing to me, all righ-don't laugh! Everyone already makes fun of me about being a virgin _,_ Bellamy. That's why I'm doing this, because I want them to stop. Do you think that'll happen if they find out? Because I don't."

Bellamy's face was softer when he spoke. "No one's gonna find out. Besides, the issue isn't all of them, it's just Murphy."

"Murphy has been telling everyone my secrets for years," she deadpanned, raising an eyebrow.

"Then stop telling him your secrets," Bellamy said like it was obvious. "That's your fault."

Clarke groaned quietly. "It's too late for that now. And anyway, he usually knows the right things to say, so it's hard not to talk to him about stuff."

"I know the right things to say. Just talk to me."

She snorted. "As if."

"What do you mean, 'as if'?" he demanded, affronted.

"Will you stop  _yelling_?" she hissed, grabbing his sleeve and pulling him away from the door.

"I'm not yelling," he said, his tone much quieter, and he gently extracted himself from her grasp when they turned around the corner of the building.

"Well, stop being so loud."

"Whatever," he said quickly, and then again, "what do you mean 'as if'? You came to me with your weird sex fetish, didn't you?"

Heat erupted around Clarke's heart, quickly spreading to her face.

"It's - what are you - that's not - it's not - a  _fetish_ ," she said, feeling somehow violated. "What's wrong with you?"

"What about you? Saying I'm only good for sex."

Clarke groaned, realizing what was going on when she saw the teasing glint in his eyes.

"Oh, my God, Bellamy, I can't do this right now. I'm already panicking about Murphy, and you know it's hard for me to figure out when you're joking."

"Who said I was joking?"

"Will you stop it?" she said, smacking him on the arm.

He chuckled and rolled his shoulders.

"All right, so what do you want to do about Murphy."

"I don't know," she sighed, crossing her arms and leaning against the side of the building, looking up at him. "Any ideas?"

"Well, telling him the truth is out."

"That was never even in," she said, her voice snippy. "Next."

He narrowed his eyes, but didn't comment on her tone.

"You don't think he'd fall for it if we tell him I'm just trying to find you a date."

"Right," she said, nodding once. "Because why wouldn't I just text you about it, then? Or phone you? Or not have secret meet-ups early in the morning like I'm a booty call?"

Bellamy was frowning to himself for a long moment before his look changed, and Clarke was staring at him so she saw every flash of what he was thinking glide over his face as his expression moved from doubtful to contemplative to resigned. And then he opened his mouth and spoke and Clarke could have screamed.

"We _could_ tell him we're dating."

Clarke took a deep breath, slowly sighed it out through her nose, and pushed away from the wall.

"Wow. Fantastic," she said, nodding and starting back the way they came. "You have been the biggest help."

She'd just rounded the corner when Bellamy's hand curled around her arm and he pulled her back, gently pushing her against the wall and holding her in place.

"You asked for my help," he said, his eyebrows raised. Clarke didn't want to meet his eyes, but she did it anyway, giving him her best grimace. "This is the only option that doesn't involve throwing you to the wolves. I'm trying to make this easy for  _you_ , 'cause it's not like I want him to think we're dating."

She huffed, knitting her eyebrows tightly together and grumbling, "Neither do I."

"It's either that or the truth," he said, taking his hand off her to cross his arms. "Take your pick."

They stared each other down for a moment, mostly because Clarke knew he was right and she hated that he was, because it meant she had to have a seriously unpleasant conversation soon. Eventually, she was the one who broke the look and rolled her head back so it was touching the wall.

"This sucks," she mumbled, resisting the urge to stomp her foot.

"We'll do it together," Bellamy said, uncrossing his arms and dropping his hands to his hips. "When we ask him why he's looking at us all the time, he'll tell us the reason, 'cause he doesn't beat around the bush, and then-"

"We say, 'Oh, we're dating, but shh, don't tell'."

Bellamy breathed out sharply through his nose, an almost laugh.

"Sounds about right."

But when Clarke said it, she started to dislike that choice of explanations just like the others.

"That's not believable either," she groaned, dropping her chin to her chest.

He snorted. "You have a better reason for why you'd be sneaking over to my place?"

"No," she said coldly, "but he knows that I'm a virgin and he knows that you sleep with a different girl every night and that's just a bad combination. He won't believe it."

"All right, well, I'm going inside," he said heavily, walking away and leaving her to pout and follow him.

"Wait, so what do we say?" she pressed, sliding her hands into the pockets of her sweater.

"Clarke, the only thing we can tell him is that we're dating and we want to keep it a secret," he said, sounding fed up. "It's not a big deal. He won't say anything to them if we come up with a good reason for why they can't know."

"Like what?" she asked, doubtful.

"Like, I don't know. Like it's new and if it doesn't work out, we don't want any of our friends in the middle of it. Good?"

Well ... that could actually work.

"Okay, fine," she said, sighing as she pulled her key from her purse, and then, "Oh, wait, just a second."

She hurried back to her car that was parked a few paces away to get the stuffed horse Bellamy won for her. He was smiling at her on her way back.

"See," he started, pointing at the stuffed animal as she unlocked the door to the building. "Keep doing stuff like that, and we'll have him fooled."

Clarke threw him a look over her shoulder and yanked the door open, walking ahead of him to the stairs that lead to the higher levels.

"If by 'stuff like that' you mean ensure my memento from the fair is safe, then we're on the same page."

"Who won you that 'momento'?" he said quietly, following behind her.

She rolled her eyes, but she didn't answer. It wasn't about Bellamy, but if it would help their situation with Murphy, then fine: it was about Bellamy. She rolled her eyes again at the thought before stopping and urging Bellamy to go up the stairs first to make sure he wasn't looking at her ass.

It was settled then. They were going to confront Murphy. She didn't want to do it, she really didn't want to do it, the higher they climbed on the stairs, the _more_ she didn't want to do it, but they had to. And soon, because he was talking to everyone and she was scared that as soon as they all gathered around in the living room with drinks, Murphy would casually say something disastrous like, "So, Clarke, what's going on between you and Bellamy?". Maybe he wouldn't, maybe she was just paranoid, but she wasn't about to chance it. So Bellamy went to the kitchen, pretending to be looking around for food, and Clarke walked up to Murphy, who was blessedly alone in the living room, hooking Raven's laptop up to the TV.

"Hey, can we talk for a second?" she said, forcing her voice to sound calm.

"Absolutely," he said, all too eager without even looking at her.

He finished hooking up the HDMI cable and stood, grabbing his drink and following Clarke to the kitchen.

When he realized it wasn't just him and Clarke, he smiled. "Bellamy. What a surprise."

He didn't sound surprised at all.

"Okay," Clarke started, intending to go on, but more words just would not come out.

She tried -  _really_ hard - but she was just making weird sounds and it was embarrassing all three of them, so Bellamy interjected.

"Whatever you're thinking, you might as well spit it out so we can tell you if you're right or not."

Murphy didn't hesitate. "You're dating Clarke."

It was strange, but Clarke was actually quite surprised that was his answer. She guessed it was just because she hoped he had some other reason for watching them - any other reason - so that she wouldn't have to pretend to be Bellamy's girlfriend around Murphy. Which, to be honest, she probably wouldn't do anyway, but she wanted to be annoyed about the situation. What would be really ideal was if she could go back in time and be more discreet in her sneaking off to see Bellamy.

She was brought out of her thoughts by the confidence in Bellamy's deep voice.

"I am."

They'd agreed on telling Murphy that, she knew they did, but hearing Bellamy say it still filled Clarke with inexplicable panic. She felt like a part of her knew she was making too big a deal out of this, but she also felt like she couldn't help it. If Murphy let it slip around their friends-

"For how long?" he asked, completely unfazed.

"A few days," said Bellamy, just as nonchalant.

Murphy nodded, glancing at Clarke.

"This is weird, you know that, right?"

Clarke rolled her eyes, secretly relieved. It seemed like this conversation was - thankfully - coming to an end.

Bellamy, though, seemed to want to drag it out.

"What's weird about it?" he asked, calm as ever.

Murphy scoffed, but didn't answer the question.

"I know I'm supposed to give you the obligatory 'if you hurt her' speech, but frankly, you could probably kick my ass. Just don't be a dick, man."

Clarke spoke before Bellamy got the chance.

"Can you just keep this between the three of us?"

Murphy met her eyes, looking confused.

"Why? You don't plan on telling them?"

She bit the inside of her cheek and cleared her throat.

"It's new and we don't know how serious we are, yet," she said quietly, continuing despite Murphy's dubious look. "If it doesn't work out, we don't want any of you guys to feel weird or like you have to take sides. So if no one knows, it will be like nothing ever happened."

It took him a minute, but eventually, Murphy sighed and nodded.

"It's not my business," he said, giving her a strange look. "If you don't think it's going to last, then whatever, I won't tell anyone."

It was hard for her to trust that he would keep that promise, but there was nothing to do about it at that point.

She was just about to thank him and go join their friends when he surprised her (and Bellamy, if his expression was any indication) by saying he wanted to talk to Clarke alone.

"All right," Bellamy said after a moment, eyeing Murphy with a wary look.

On the way out, he gave Clarke a quick kiss on the forehead, which almost shocked her before she remembered they  _just_ told Murphy they were dating. It was good; Bellamy was keeping up appearances. It felt weird, but ... it was good.

And then as soon as he was gone, Murphy cleared his throat.

"You probably don't need my advice, but you're a huge virgin, so I just wanted-"

"Murphy!"

"I'm just saying you're inexperienced!" he said defensively, raising his hands in the air. "I don't want anyone to take advantage of you."

She frowned, confused.

"What are you talking about?"

"Bellamy," he said, like it was obvious.

"What?" she laughed. "What about Bellamy?"

"You haven't dealt with guys, you don't know what they can be like-"

"I know what Bellamy's like," she countered, punching him before adding, "And so do you! You've been friends with him for longer than you've been friends with me."

He looked like he wanted to say something, but was scared of being yelled at.

"What?" she pressed, lowering her voice when she remembered who they were talking about. "Spit it out."

"Bellamy's been with a lot of girls, so maybe he's getting bored and wants to try out a virgin. I'm just saying."

In a weird way, what he was saying was almost touching. Almost. It was mostly just awkward and inappropriate, but she knew he was just worried about her. In a weird, super weird way.

"Thanks, John, I'll keep that in mind," she said, keeping most of the sarcasm out of her voice.

It wasn't like his warnings mattered anyway. She wasn't  _actually_ dating Bellamy, so she didn't really care if the reason he agreed to tutor her was because he wanted to 'try out a virgin'. It wasn't like _she_ wanted Bellamy's help for moral reasons. She knew he'd been joking when he said she was just using him for sex, but it was true whether he meant it or not.

But still, Murphy's concern was sort of nice. If it was about a different topic, it would be really sweet, so she wasn't too mad at him. She did use his first name, though, which she always did when she was cross with him, so she knew he'd at least pick up on that and realize he was being a weirdo.

Which he did.

"Right, I get it," he said, chuckling and looking down. "Not my business."

She smiled, rolling her eyes before stepping forward and giving him a hug, which he automatically returned.

"Thanks for caring, though," she said into his shirt, her voice muffled.

"If you guys _do_ break up," he started when she pulled away, lowering his voice and leaning in before continuing, "I'd take your side."

Was it wrong of her to feel good about that? Because she felt pretty good about it.

"Thanks, Murphy," she said, taking his beer from him and hurrying out of the kitchen before he could grab her back.

Because she was looking back at Murphy, she almost ran right into Raven, who'd been bustling over to the kitchen, but came to an abrupt halt before they collided.

"Oh, good," she said, grabbing Clarke's free hand and pulling her hurriedly over to Octavia's bedroom.

"Aw, you missed me?" Clarke asked, only half teasing.

"Always," she said at once, ushering her through the door and closing it behind her. "But I actually have a reason for needing you right now."

Octavia was sitting on her bed, her laptop in front of her, and eagerly patted the bed next to her when Clarke looked at her. Unaware of what was happening, she took a seat next to Octavia and saw a somewhat horrifying, somewhat embarrassing, but mostly nerve-wracking site staring back at her.

It was OkCupid, and there was already an account for her set up.

"Nope," she said, immediately standing and turning to glare at the both of them. "I'm not doing that. I'm never doing that."

"Clarke," Octavia whined, giving her a fake pouting face.

"No, Octavia," she said, her eyes wide. "You know how I feel about online dating."

"You've never even tried it," Raven mumbled, flopping down onto the bed in a disappointed heap.

"Yeah," Clarke said, "because I hate it."

"How would you know?" Octavia asked sharply.

"Because I know," she said, narrowing her eyes at her until she looked away. "Look, I didn't even agree to you two meddling in my love life, but if you're going to do it anyway, then do it with people you already know and have talked to at least a few times. I'm not going on blind dates, all right?"

"So, wait," said Raven, looking like she was obviously hatching a plot. "How do you feel about our Facebook friends?"

Clarke groaned.

"Fine, if we're doing this, here are the ground rules: no one you don't know, no acquaintances, no one you're gonna pretend you're close with even though you just met them a few days ago," she paused, giving Raven a pointed look, "and no one weird."

Raven scoffed. "Like we would set you up with someone weird."

" _You_ would, for sure."

"Hey," she said, and then pulled out her phone and muttered, "I'll show you exactly how not weird my other friends are."

Clarke breathed out a laugh.

"Well, whenever you want to 'show me', I'll be in the living room," she said, and then she turned and left them alone, joining the rest of her friends.

The first thing she noticed was Bellamy standing alone by the window, his arms crossed and nothing in his hands, and he looked as though he'd been staring at Octavia's bedroom door for a while. Right then, he was staring at Clarke, and he would _not_ look away. It wasn't a stare that would make her uncomfortable, like an I-have-a-crush-on-you stare, but it was a stare that she'd seen many times throughout life. It was the look he gave people when he texted them something from across the room and wanted to make sure they got the message, but she didn't have any unread texts and Bellamy was beckoning her over. When she walked up to him, he started talking immediately, like he'd been preparing for it, except it wasn't in his voice. It was a very poor rendition of Murphy cautioning Clarke about Bellamy.

" _'Be careful about Bellamy'_ ," he said, changing his voice so it sounded nothing like his and what she assumed was supposed to be Murphy's. " _'He probably only wants to date you because he wants to fuck a virgin.'_ _"_

Clarke's eyes went wide and she pushed Bellamy away, glancing over her shoulder to make sure everyone was still preoccupied with other things before she dragged him back to the kitchen where she was _so_ close to pummeling him. There were a few things that she probably should have figured out, namely why she was so embarrassed, why she hated that Bellamy referred to having sex with her as wanting to 'fuck a virgin', why he stared her down just to repeat what Murphy said to her, but what she went with was none of those.

"You were listening?"

He rolled his eyes.

"Obviously."

"Bellamy, you asshole!" she said, resisting the urge to stomp her foot.

"What do you expect, he was spouting bullshit about me."

"You wouldn't have known that," she said, accusing, "if you weren't eavesdropping."

"Why are you taking his side?" he asked, seeming genuine when he added, "You're _my_  girlfriend."

She scoffed. "He's just looking out for me. As my  _boyfriend_ , you should be happy about that."

"I am happy," he said at once, his lips barely moving as he spoke so that she had to listen hard to make out what he was saying. "Who said I wasn't happy?"

To her, it seemed like he was being dramatic and getting way too upset over nothing, but he left the kitchen before she could get more into it. So, with a quiet grumble, she took a swig of ~~Murphy's~~ her drink and followed him out.

And then soon enough, she noticed something was going on between Bellamy and Murphy that had never happened before, and surprisingly enough, it was incredibly amusing. They looked like they were having a battle of egos that everyone was noticing, but only the three of them understood. From her perspective, Murphy was being protective of her, which was something she expected after she told him she was dating Bellamy so she wasn't surprised at all, but what _was_ surprising was Bellamy. She assumed he was just being defensive because of what he'd heard Murphy say about him, considering the two of them had been good friends for a long time and ... well, Clarke wasn't really sure what else it could be. It was totally unlike Bellamy to act out like this regardless of the circumstances, so Clarke had never seen this side of him before. It was like they were two little children who didn't want to share their toy just so the other one couldn't have it. Clarke kind of thought that made her the toy, but she didn't want to think about how that meant two of her favourite men were using her as an excuse to make the other one mad, so instead, she just watched from a distance. It was mesmerizing.

They were arguing over every single thing they could. Alcohol tolerance, who was better at Mario Kart (which included a play-off that Murphy won and was smugly triumphant about while Bellamy crossed his arms and pouted on the couch, not meeting anyone's eyes), which one was better friends with Clarke (that one could have been really dangerous, but thankfully, neither of them brought up anything they weren't supposed to, and it ended with everyone thinking that Murphy won the argument, but Clarke could see that the two boys silently settled on Bellamy winning because, well ... to Murphy, Bellamy and Clarke were dating; how could that  _not_ make him the winner?), who had better shoes, who had the better job, and the list went on.

The whole time, Raven and Octavia were continually coming out of Octavia's room to show Clarke a picture of someone. If Clarke liked the picture, they would give her a quick debriefing on the person. There had been roughly a dozen pictures already, but only five debriefings, and Clarke liked none of them.

So, her night was a lot of alternating between playing Catan with Lincoln, Monty, and Jasper, letting Raven and Octavia ask her about prospective dates, and feeling a little too entertained by Bellamy and Murphy trying to get under each other's skin:

Murphy was playing Fallout 4 on the Xbox and Bellamy was sitting on the couch verbally judging him.

"You're doing it wrong, you know," he said, though at that point, there wasn't really any way to mess up the gameplay.

In a tone that matched Bellamy's, Murphy said, "You have ugly eyebrows, you know."

"I'm not the one who has a hairy back, you neanderthal," Bellamy shot back.

"Neither do I, you fuckin-" Murphy said, kicking out at him, but he easily dodged the blow.

 _Such_ children.

Afterward, Jasper, who was lying on the ground with his limbs splayed out and his eyes closed, apparently had had enough.

"Can we watch a movie or something?" he asked, his shoulders somehow slumping even though he was on the ground. "I can't take their bickering anymore."

At the same time, Murphy and Bellamy said, "We're not bickering."

Then Murphy rolled his eyes, and Bellamy narrowed his, and then he walked over to Clarke and pretended to whisper in her ear while Murphy was watching. All he said was some variation of 'shwasshajdshkjahdsahf', so Clarke gave him a stony look and told him to knock it off and leave her out of it before she left them in their silent, angry stare-down and went to watch a movie with everyone else.

Eventually things died down, probably because of the movie. Raven and Octavia gave up - for the moment - on finding someone for Clarke, and Murphy and Bellamy gave up on trying to one-up each other on everything. A few hours later, once the movie credits were rolling, everyone was drunk and passed out around the house except for Clarke, who was only drunk, and Bellamy, who was neither. It was probably best that way because as usual, drunk Clarke was feeling emotional and more willing to express herself than sober Clarke, and sober Clarke had wanted a few answers from Bellamy.

"Can you come to my room for a minute?" she whispered.

He was sitting next to her, slumped on the couch, and at her request, he looked up with tired eyes, waiting for her to continue.

"I want to talk to you about something, but I don't want anyone else to hear."

Without needing further explanation, Bellamy rose and was in her room before she even made it off the couch. It took a few seconds and almost stepping on someone, but she made it to her room in pretty good time considering she was swaying on her feet with every step. She closed the door behind her and looked at Bellamy curled up on one side of her bed. While she was watching him, he yawned.

"I don't want you to think I'm weird," she said as she made her way to the other side of the bed, "but there's something I kind of want to know."

"Yeah, all right," he said, meeting her eyes when she flopped down on her side so she was facing him.

"Do you think about what it will be like with me in the sixth week?"

He hesitated for a few seconds, looking like he was about to lie, but then Clarke raised her eyebrows at him and he cleared his throat, looking away.

"I have, yeah."

He didn't sound embarrassed about it, but she thought he should. It was even embarrassing for her, and she was drunk.

"How do you feel about it?" she asked anyway, because she wanted to know if he really thought of her as some random virgin that he was just going to 'fuck'. 

"I'll like it probably."

"Bellamy!" she snapped too loudly before realizing her mistake.

"What?" he said, a barely there smile on his face, but he still wouldn't look at her. "You asked."

"I meant ... you know, like," she paused, finding it harder to get out than she anticipated. "Are you thinking about it like, you'll be having sex with me?"

He did meet her eyes then, looking uncertain. "Is that not the plan?"

She was quickly realizing there was no way for him to get her meaning if she wasn't totally blunt with it, so....

"Is it going to be us having sex, or is it going to be you fucking a virgin?"

"What?" he said at once, his face contorting in shocked confusion as he rose up onto his elbow. "Come on, Clarke, you don't actually believe what Murphy said, do you?"

"You're the one who said it!" she objected, forcing herself to keep her voice low.

He looked even more stunned at that.

"I know I didn't 'cause there's no way I'd forget saying that about you."

Clarke crossed her arms, feeling suddenly embarrassed.

"When you were imitating him, that's what you said."

He exhaled sharply. "That's not what I meant, Clarke. I was just mad at Murphy for trying to act like I don't care about you."

"But you do, though?" she prompted, not even really knowing why she wanted to know it so badly.

Bellamy looked away, falling back down on the bed.

"If I didn't care about you, would I have made that contract?"

"Probably," she muttered. "You slept with Raven, too, and other than Octavia, she's the only other girl you're friends with."

"I didn't know her well then," he said, sounding relaxed. "If the same thing came up now, I wouldn't go through with it."

"So why are you going through with it just because it's me?" she asked, knowing she was just asking these questions because she was drunk, but not really caring enough to stop.

"It's different," he said.

She rolled her head to the side to look at him, and he sighed, giving her only a small explanation, but it was enough.

"You're one of my best friends. Raven isn't."

Taking a deep breath, Clarke looked back up at the ceiling and sighed it out, yanking her blanket out from under her and covering herself up.

"Fine," she said, snuggling into the mattress. "You're still good for tomorrow after work?"

"If you are," he said, sliding off her bed and giving her a quick smile in the dark before he left her room, closing the door behind him and audibly collapsing back onto the couch.

* * *

Murphy covered for her on Sunday night, and as soon as she walked through Bellamy's door, all he greeted her with before going right into 'tutoring' was, "Well, this shouldn't be as bad as the first time."

He might not admit it, but she could tell he knew: she was a fast learner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first half was probably better than the second half because I stopped midway to play a game with my brother, and it kind of made me lose my groove. Plus it was suddenly one in the morning and I was/am tired.  
> Or maybe that made the second half better.  
> Maybe it's all bad.  
> *shrug* I dunno.  
> Anyway, thanks for reading! Leave a comment/kudos/etc if you want to :))


End file.
